


The Art of Far Moving

by Team_Two_Cats



Series: Silly (Suikoden) Love Songs [7]
Category: Suikoden, Suikoden I
Genre: Angst, Bath Time, M/M, May/December Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-28 06:54:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20774369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Team_Two_Cats/pseuds/Team_Two_Cats
Summary: Sydonia owes Varkas a lot. For saving him, and being with him, and loving him. And though a part of him wants nothing more than to join him as Captain of the Border Guard, there's something from Syd's past he has to investigate...alone.





	The Art of Far Moving

**Author's Note:**

> This seems like a fairly canon ship, with some age difference, May/December vibes. Normally it's not something I'd be interested in, but I like the dynamic the two have, and Sydonia is a nice mystery. That they don't end the game together but going separate ways made me think of why that might be. And this happened! :D

Syd remembers chains. Not just the ones of the caravan master who had cuffed him, used him for violence and profit. Before as well, though, in Falena. With Nether Gate. He doesn’t remember his family but for faint flashes of people running, dying. And then only the masters of Nether Gate, eager to exploit the supposed secrets of his family, the ability to move as if teleporting. And then the experiments, and the training, and the eager blood on his hands. Until a man with soft eyes offered him a way out and he took it, even if it all went wrong.

“Ah, this is life,” Varkas says, leaning back further into the bath. They are alone for once, so rare since they joined the Liberation Army. But the war is won. The castle emptying more and more every day.

“Heh,” he says, eyes caught on the clean flesh of his wrists. Shouldn’t there be scars? He wore chains for so long that sometimes he can still feel them, a weight on his body he can’t escape. Those nights are when he secrets from bed, from Varkas’ warmth, and finds a tall place where he can feel like he’s flying, or falling.

“Nice of Tir to offer us the positions of Captains of the Border Guards, don’t you think?” Varkas asks. Despite his seeming relaxation, Syd can tell that there’s a tension there. Varkas is no fool, even if his heart is too big for his chest. He can feel something is coming, even if he doesn’t know what.

“Heh,” Syd says. He wishes there was a different way of doing this, but he’s not sure there is.

Syd has buried the name that Nether Gate gave him, though he still thinks about the man who got him out. He wonders if he and the others got free. In the confusion of the attack, of Nether Gate’s attempt to retake them, anything might have happened. Syd might be the only one to have survived that night. Survived, only to be taken by a greedy merchant he had made the mistake of being honest with. Who, once he knew what Syd could do, had no problem with shackling him and using him.

“You remember Banner Village?” Varkas asks.

Of course he does. He remembers Varkas bringing him through after freeing him from the caravan. Remembers the peace they found there waiting for Varkas’ contact. It was before Odessa’s movement, but Varkas had always been a mercenary and bandit. He was supposed to pick up plans for the movement of weapons, but the contact had already been arrested. They spent a full two weeks in Banner, laughing with the local fisherman and learning to trust one another.

“Heh,” Syd says.

He shifts in the water, glides closer to Varkas. He grabs the soap and works a later up, begins to work his way over Varkas’ shoulders and back. He doesn’t want to deal with what comes next, with the pain that it will bring. Finally Varkas has a chance to get out of the life of banditry. Finally he has a position of authority and respect, under a ruler who isn’t corrupt or violent. He wants the dream they had shared, of a quiet home, an end to conflict. Just the two of them and space for their wounds to heal.

Varkas groans as Syd works the soap over his body. He hardens, and Syd can’t help but give a soft “heh.”

“You’re courting danger,” Varkas warns. “Sansuke hates it when people fool around in the bath.”

Syd doesn’t answer with words. He’s’ always been much better at letting his actions speak where his words fail. Normally that’s meant violence. It’s strange how many people have wanted to use him because of his skill, because of his ability to be one place and then…somewhere else. He never knew something other than fear and death until Varkas, until that shaggy face had turned to him and it was like he could see Varkas’ heart melt at the sight of him. Like he could see all the chains, not just the ones the caravan master had bound him with.

Syd lets his hands run lower, and lower, and Varkas doesn’t argue any longer, though his breathing turns ragged.

He wants to say that he’ll stay with Varkas forever. That he’ll take the post and be happy in Banner Village only ever using his skills to protect the new country he’s helped form.

He starts to work up a rhythm, his hands quick and soft, barely disturbing the water.

He wants to explain. That he’s heard a rumor, from Kage of all people, of a person who can do what Syd can do. Who, if rumors are more reliable than the wind, bears a resemblance to Sydonia. But the rumors come from across the sea. From Zelant. And it’s enough to make Syd’s heart turn in the most dangerous of ways—toward hope.

Varkas bites his bottom lip but still squirms as Syd continues, as he takes one had down, between Varkas’ legs, to seek what pleasure can be found in the shadows there.

He wants to ask Varkas to come with, but he can’t. Not only because this has been Varkas’ dream for so long. Not just because Varkas deserves that, that release from crime and the life of a bandit. Deserves to gain a little paunch and spend his nights sighing content and looking into the folds of the fire in his hearth. Not just because it might be more dangerous that Syd can handle, and he can’t stand the thought of Varkas seeing him die. Not just for any of that, but because if he knows that Varkas is safe in Banner…if he knows that Varkas is waiting for him, then he knows he’ll have to return. That regardless of what happens in Zelant, he’ll make it back no matter what. To join Varkas in that life they’ve fantasized about.

“S-Syd!” Varkas cries, and Syd smiles at the exquisite pleasure on his face. The face of the man who saved him. The face of the man he…

Over time, Syd has thought about how it works, his ability to move as he does. The Art of Far Moving. He was born with it, but it’s more than that. He needs to want it. And if he can, if he can want to be somewhere else enough, the world seems to move for him. Always in the past the desire was to escape. To be _gone_. But it would only take him short distances, leaving behind just the ghost of that hope. But now…now his desire was different. And when he went now he knew he’d leave behind something more than a ghost. He’d leave a part of himself, his own beating heart, and so no matter how far he went, he’d be able to find his way…home.

“I love you, Syd,” Varkas says, and Syd can hear the forgiveness there, as if he already knows that Syd isn’t going with him to Banner. Not just yet, at least.

“Heh,” Syd says, and it’s all he needs to say.


End file.
